Dhaka to Darjeeling

To make our time all the more memorable in Bangladesh, we tried to include as many different transports on our trip to the northern border. Well, we didn't try....it just so happened that way. We tried to arrange a luxury bus that would take us straight through to the city across the Indian border, but it was sold out. So we turned up at the bus station with plans of catching the next bus heading up towards the border. The bus stations in Dhaka are an experience in themselves. There are several bus stations that serve different regions of the country, so the first task is figuring out which bus station you even need. The bus stations aren't so much stations as a mass of busses and people strung out along the side of a busy road. So, we hopped out of the autorickshaw and just started asking everyone 'Rangpur?' People started pointing off in one direction. We would walk a while, inquire again and continue to follow the direction of the pointing fingers. Then we arrive at a bus and everyone is yelling for us to buy the tickets and jump on as if the bus will pull off momentarily, and we might just miss it if we don't move quickly enough. We leap onto our local bus, knowing we are in for a long journey, as all the passengers on the bus crane their necks to catch a glimpse of us. The fellow next to Tim was staring open-mouthed at the alien sitting next to him. We proceed to sit there for an hour and a half waiting for the bus to fill to maximum capacity before we set out on our 9 hour journey. (I was told by the fellow selling us the ticket it would take merely 6 hours...perhaps he was fearful that we would look for another bus if he told us how many stops it was going to make!) The nine hours slipped past as we wove our way past rice paddies, smoke stacks of brick factories, and small villages strung along the roads. It was quite late by the time we arrived in Rangpur and were dumped off the bus on the side of the road. Early the next morning we set out to continue our travels. We hopped on a minibus just as it was taking off to make our way to the border. At some point the bus stopped near a river crossing and shut off the motor. We waited and waited, and then realized that we were waiting for a train to come through, as the motor traffic also uses the railway bridge to cross the river. The train chugged past, with a pack of people hugging the roof of the train car so that they could clear the top of the bridge just above their backs. After the train past, we lumbered across the creaking bridge and continued to a town still 12 km from the border. We hopped on a cycle rickshaw, and the narrow-framed man pumped away all the way to the border along the dirt road. On the other side of the border, just two more bus rides and finally a jeep ride brought us up to the hill station of Darjeeling at 7000 ft above the very sea level we began our journey at. Three hours in a shared jeep winding up hairpin curves in the chilly evening air, and we safely arrive in Darjeeling. We were so happy to see the town and breath the cool, fresh air.

Home Swede Home

After 3 months on the road with no place to call home...we found a home in Dhaka on our last trip through the capital. A Swedish fellow that we met on our trip to the Sundarbans is doing contract work in Bangladesh and has a flat in Dhaka. So, for two glorious days we relished being in a 'home'. We feasted on cheese (brie...not paneer!) and wine, had our first hot shower in nearly a month's time, sat on a western toilet (versus the usual squat toilet)...and washed our clothes in a washing machine for the first time since we landed in the subcontinent! Granted we are choosing this budget lifestyle to lengthen our journey, but it really makes you appreciate the simple modern conveniences that we grow so accustomed to in our lives back home. We were so grateful to Kent for inviting us into his home where we spent sucha relaxing time before making our long journey to the northern border to cross back into India.

Bangladesh Tea Country

We hit tea country in the off season, so the tea plants were quite bare and there was not much activity on the plantations. But we didn't let this stop us from renting some bicycles and pedaling around the rolling hills along the plantations. It was quite pleasant landscape...until we reached a protected forest reserve and saw what the landscape should look like. Instead of neatly groomed fields of shrubs, we encountered lush, thick tropical forest....another wild haven in this densely populated country. We explored several trails while listening to the endangered gibbons (small apes) bantering back and forth from the canopy in a comical symphony that reminded me of a table of old ladies gossiping wildly. We suddenly were encountering birds, butterflies, spiders, and various insects that aren't found beyond the protected boundary of this forest. Bangladesh has several protected sites like this, but these places are such a small proportional area. Even more, these protected areas face so many threats from locals struggling to make a living. Deforestation and other environmental issues seem like such black and white issues when you read about them, but when you put the struggles into context...human survival versus habitat for an endangered ape, the lines become quite blurred and the issue much more complex. But Tim and I relished the expansive green surrounding us on our hikes and the bike ride along the forested corridor. It would have been a perfect day if not for the flat tire that made for a slow return trip!!

Bengali transportation

The rule of the road is the biggest man (or vehicle) reigns. All the vehicles are battle scarred with dents, scrapes, and various layers of paint attempting to hide the scars. And this is in a country that has very few cars. Private bus companies rule the road that is full of cycle rickshaws and bicycles. There is a constant symphony of bus horns, autorickshaw horns, and bicycle bells...in a slow speed race along the narrow roads. Busses weave in an out past the cycle rickshaws carrying bundles of vegetables, rice, and/or people. In Dhaka the traffic is at a permanent standstill, except for Friday and Saturday, which are the days of worship and businesses completely shut down. But, come Sunday (our Monday) the streets return to their manic state in which pedestrians are low man on the totem pole and literally run across the street to safely reach the other side. We witnessed several accidents, but since they typically occur at lower speeds, we didn't witness any injuries. I can't imagine what things would be like if a larger portion of the popuation owned cars...and more transportation was motorized instead of human-powered!

From the mangrove jungle to the city jungle

From all the greens of the Sundarbans, we were greeted by all of the grays of Dhaka, the capital city. It claims a population of 15 million inhabitants that are all vying for space in this cramped, chaotic city. It was fascinating to explore for several days, but we quickly got our fill of black boogers (from all the dust and exhaust) and blaring horns that rattle your brain. Dhaka, much like Calcutta, has a rich literary culture and history. It houses several interesting museums and we happened to time our visit with an incredible international photography exhibit. With a central theme of 'freedom' there were exhibits houses at several venues around the city. Beautiful photos revealing social and environmental injustices, including several by local artists. There were journalistic exhibits offering a glimpse into the lives of street dwellers and the cities enormous poor population, putting into context a bit more of the stories of the people you pass daily on the sidewalks. It is Muslim culture to help the less fortunate, so you frequently saw people giving to beggers in this city...which was a welcome sight, but obviously not solving the problem. Another photo exhibit showed portaits of people from a wide range of countries and beside the photo was their definition or idea of freedom. It was a beautiful display of what humanity is all striving for, yet difficult to digest with the sights just outside the door. It is an issue that I struggle with as we travel and I see so many people denied basic freedoms just due to their personal circumstances in society. And yet, Bangladesh is the perfect place to house such an exhibit as they only recently gained their own independence and freedom as a nation. Somehow Bangladesh didn't enter our world history or geography lessons, as it was already established as a nation once we were in school, but my parents generation remembers well its bloody fight for independence from Pakistan in the early 70s. It has a fascinating history and a long violent fight for freedom...that leaves me amazed that they are still willing to welcome foreignors with open arms as guests to their country.

Tracking the Elusive Royal Bengal Tiger

Our first trip in Bangladesh was to the Sundarbans, the largest continuous mangrove forest in the world...and home to the royal bengal tiger. Only accessible by boat, we spent lazy days cruising to and from our destination along the broad murky rivers of Bangladesh. There were only 12 of us on a boat equipped for 35, so we were quite lucky. Passing villages and fishing boats, as our boat plied the waters. River dolphins made brief cameo appearances around our boat, eagles fished in our wake, and the sleepy landscape drifted by. We spent a full day 'exploring' in the heart of the mangrove forest. We took an early morning rowboat ride down a narrow channel, enshrowded in mist. Unfortunately a large group of Bengali tourists on another boat had a similar agenda and broke the magical silence with a motored boat to a nearby destination, gawking at us the whole time as if we were some bizarre wildlife. Once we were past them though, silence returned to the channel and we slowly rowed along watching kingfishers and egrets find their breakfast, spotted deer lurking in the shadows of the mangrove trees, and a few reptiles lounging on branches awaiting the sun's warm rays to start their day. The real excitement was the chance to see a tiger. (Our guide had seen one swim across this same channel in front of the boat the previous year!) On our hike through a grassland to visit the Bay of Bengal, we saw several tracks (and even some scat!) near the trail and all along the beach. There were signs of tigers everywhere...but I knew the odds were unlikely for us to get anywhere near one. Then we set out on an evening walk through the mangrove forest. We had armed guards that accompanied all of our hikes, a requirement for a visit to the national park. I was quite enjoying strolling through the thick growth of the mangrove trees in our small group, avoiding the 'knees' or roots of the mangrove trees that grow up out of the soil to get air in a frequently innundated environment. Suddenly our guide and one of the guards heard a tiger off in the distance. They turned into young children with their excitement, motioning for us all to squat down and remain quiet. The group got all excited and nervous glances were flashed back and forth. We heard periodic growls from the tiger as we continued along the trail, the guards seemingly more excited than any of us. It was completely exhilerating. Of course, the biology nerd in me got all worked up that we were actually 'tracking' the animal trying to get closer to
it. Every part of me was against that....except for the part of me that really wanted to see a tiger in the wild. Not surprisingly we didn't catch a glimpse of the tiger, but heard him (or her!) calling
several times. It was an experience you would never find in the US with all the regulation, etc! I am sure we were quite the sight, this group of westerners led by 4 Bengalis, all creeping along in the forest desperately hoping to get a glimpse of this wild creature. That evening we watched a documentary about the tigers that made me feel even more silly for slinking around in the forest trying to 'sneak' up on a tiger....but it was a memorable experience hearing the tiger roar out in the wild. Even though Bangladesh is one of the world's most densely populated countries, it still is home to some of the wildest places on the planet. The only concern is how long these wild places will remain.

Bangladesh...off the beaten path

Tim and I decided to take a detour in our India tour and cross into Bangladesh for two weeks. It was an incredible two weeks that simultaneously rewarded and challenged us. One of the most densely populated and impoverished countries in the world, it has yet to make it onto traveler's radars. This was incredible traveling around and meeting very few travelers after being on the well-worn trail in India. We have never been stared at so much in our lives. We had heard that a crowd will quickly form around you when you pause somewhere...and we were situated at the center of a huge crowd on several occasions. Bengali people had a knack for spotting us wherever we went. And, we were greeted by curious smiles everywhere we went. For me this would quickly turn into a contageous smilefest. Someone would flash a smile in my direction, which would prompt a sincere smile from me. Then their smile would grow in response, and our toothy grins continued to grow until they encompassed our entire faces. This was quite helpful since few people speak english, so a simple smile is the most basic form of communication....and perhaps the most beautiful. We were also invited to several homes, countless shops to have cha (tea) as a guest, and even a medical clinic. Bengali people are quite assertive, and it was nearly impossible to refuse the offer to join them for a cha. Then Tim and I would sit in their shop sipping a cha, while the entire block assembled to catch a glimpse of us. No one had any intention of selling us anything...we ended up in steel shops, hinge shops, shoe shops, etc.
Our first evening in the country, we were strolling around the town taking in the sights. A man shouted to us to visit his shop. We politely declined as we glanced at all the shoes on display on the walls of his shop. With a huge smile, he continued to insist we come to his shop. Tim and I exchanged glances, shrugged and strolled into his shop. We sat in the two chairs as he sat on the small stool at our feet, as if preparing to measure them. The english was limited, but we ran through a typical line of questions: your country? (we always got very excited responses when we shared we were from America...and much praise for Obama) husband-wife? children? profession? you like Bangladesh? By the time we exhausted the line of questions (and asked some of the usual questions back), there was a crowd of nearly 50 men craning their necks to get a good look at us. Then luckily a customer came into the store and the instant party was broken up and everyone made their way back to their shops. We had this experience so many times during our visit. People were so honored to have us as guests in their country. I wondered if that treatment would ever be given to a Muslim visiting our country. (Bangladesh is a Muslim country). We were treated like royalty in Bangladesh, as they are certainly quite the hosts!

Food stalls...to die for!

Kolkata is full of hopping food stalls where you can find just about anything. Chai, fruit juices, samosas, rolls, and an assortment of different meals (usually a sauce with bread) are all prepared curbside, and stay busy through most of the day. We have eaten some delicious meals on rugged benches by the side of the road, holding the plate in one hand and eating with the other. The most delicious naan I have had on this trip came out of a 50 gallon Castrol oil barrel-cum-tandoor oven. In the afternoons, huge crowds gather around the carts for a quick cheap meal on the curbside...and by evening a single light bulb illuminates the area. It has been a delightful experience exploring the different carts and their delicious (!!) food.

'I'm not Italian...I'm Indian!!'

Per the Lonely Planet's suggestion, we set out to find a restaurant that serves up divine Bengali food. It is a bit of an institution, this tiny restaurant with four tables in its small dining area. We set off to a new part of town we hadn't explored yet...and not surprisingly the map only got us to the general area, but there wasn't enough detail to find the exact spot. We start asking around for the street that it is on, and we are greeted with many blank stares or confused looks. One short, somewhat round middle-aged gentleman was quite eager to help us when he overheard our question at the stand nearby. "Ekdalia Road??", I inquired. "Italian?", he responds with deep creases in his forehead and a furrowed brow, "I'm not Italian, I'm Indian! Are you Italian??" As I tell him we are Americans, the creases on his forehead melt away and his tiny mustache sits like a top hat on a huge toothy grin. He shakes our hands and welcomes us before we get back down to business, forgetting about the whole Italian exchange. He figures out the road we are looking for, but thinks we are asking about a person instead of a restaurant. Then the light bulb goes off in his head and he is so delighted to hear that we are going to Bhojohari Manna, to enjoy some Bengali food. In his limited english and exaggerated hand motions he directs us to the restaurant that we weren't exactly next door to. And sure enough it was just as he had described to us. We dined on a delectable meal sampling various small dishes of mildly sweet and tangy Bengali fare and chased it with the most delicious sweets I have tasted on this trip. Just as we were finishing our meal, our friend dropped by the restaurant to check and make sure that we had made it...and that we were enjoying our dinner. The kindness of strangers is ever humbling!

Street smarts and savvy beggars

We are staying in an area crawling with westerners, thus it is a great target for beggars and vendors, taxis and rickshaw pullers. You can hardly step out of your hotel without someone offering to sell you something or asking for something. If you stay long enough (which we have hardly done), you start to see through the stories (for better or worse) and find most of the people to be quite endearing. There is one woman who begs around the corner from our hotel. She sits in a stupor with one hand to her mouth, gesturing a need for food, and the other hand shakes a tin plate that rattles against the dark concrete. It is an image that certainly makes you pause and her situation grabs you. However, another day when passing, we found her sitting upright in a heated argument with the beggar seated next to her. Another trip past, she was back to her stupor...seemingly unable to move her body. It was a glimpse at the layers of her story and made me realize that we certainly don't have a clue what her story is. (And, I do not suggest she isn't in need...just that her situation is different from the one she conveys to collect spare change). On principal, Tim and I decided a while back that we would not give out money to people, but rather food when we could. We often are carrying some fruit along in our bag, so when someone asks for money gesturing that they are hungry...we happily give them some fruit or crackers. Usually we find that the person is less than pleased (particularly in the tourist areas) to walk away with food instead of money.
There is also a pack of women who work the street our hotel is situated on. Each one has a child on her hip and a sad looking bottle. She comes up to you and immediately says, 'No money, no money...just milk', nodding at the young child and waving the bottle around. We have heard from volunteers staying in the area (there are so many charitable organizations working in this city!) that the women turn around and sell the milk to the chai stands to make money, and you are strongly discouraged from giving milk.
Then there is 'Pinky' who calls out 'Hello, sister!!' everytime I stroll out onto the street. She seems the savviest of them all, clearly 'friends' with many of the travelers. Her english is quite sharp and her persistence is commendable. The young boy she always has with her immediately crawls into your lap or plays with your hands as she talks with you. The first time she was begging for money...then she seemed to befriend me and asked me to come back the next day for henna...then Tim and I bought her a kilo of rice for her and her 'family' and she seems to have lost interest. She always flashes a beautiful smile (even though it reveals her betel nut stained teeth) and I have seen her run out to hug travelers from the space on the sidewalk where she can always be found. My interactions with her will be lasting memories of my time in Kolkata.

Another Kolkata

After a rough couple of days feeling like India was really catching up with us, we were a little worried about our arrival to Kolkata (Calcutta). Expecting to be overwhelmed by a huge city and excessive povery, Kolkata has touched us. It's a city unlike any other in India, that has validated its reputation as the friendliest of India's big cities. That's not to say that the begging and poverty doesn't exist. In fact we have run into more beggars and people living on the street here than in other cities we have visited. However, the city still retains a vibrance that carries it through all of that. Known locally as the cultural and intellectual center of the country, we have easily filled our days visiting musuems and soaking in its rich history as the original capital under the British Raj. Thus the city is full of old crumbling buildings in various states of disrepair. They are majestic buildings that help paint the cities history. So, in a city that Mother Theresa put on the map and that conjures up images of a destitute population...we have found a vibrant city set against the varying shades of gray. While its history is long and full of turmoil and hardship, Kolkata has been a captivating city with so much to offer.

Sex Education at the Sun Temple

So what better to lift the mood than a little Kama Sutra etched in stone? Thus was our visit to the magnificent sun temple in Konark. This magnificently carved temple, was conceived as a 'cosmic chariot of the sun god, Surya'. The 24 stone wheels are giant sun dials for each (lunar) month of the year. Every aspect of this temple was constructed to capture the sun's rays at various times during the day...and the depictions represent various daily activities. The 'night time' activities proved to be the most interesting. Our guide made sure we didn't miss a single position. Pointing at the carvings as we strolled around, he would say '69, woman with dog, monogamy, group sex, woman killing her husband for cheating.' The intricate, and intimate carvings continued to unfold before our eyes on the outer walls of the temple. I enjoyed seeing groups standing around particular carving, straining their necks to get a better view. This stone temple dating back to the mid-13th century appears so unassuming from a distance.

A little explanation

I think it necessary for me to write again to clarify my last e.mail. Amazingly it was the first time that Tim and I were feeling completely down and out since we started our journey. So, my last post was a stream of consciousness as my mind was completely unsettled and my tolerance levels had dropped quite low. India is the most intense place I have ever experienced, and for that reason traveling here has taught me so much and challenged me in so many ways. It has taught me to look at things in a different way and to (try!) to be open to whatever is lying in our path. Obviously, I don't always succeed in accomplishing that, but I try my best! Yesterday, Tim and I both hit a low point and found ourselves feeling quite weary...but today was a new days full of new experiences that renewed our spirits and refueled us.

I also feel I should clarify some of what I was sharing in my last e.mail. I worry that I paint a picture of a destitute India. While much of India struggles with poverty and hunger, there is a whole other part of India competing on a global scale, educating some of the world's best engineers, doctors, and computer programmers. As budget travelers constantly on the go, we come into contact with the lower class much moreso. So, the images I share only paint a small picture of what this complex country is and what it has to offer.

Traveler's slump?

It's been 2 1/2 months now that we have been on the road now...experiencing how vibrant India is. We have spent a few days in Puri, a small(er), quiet(er) city on the coast, unwinding from a week of congested cities and overnight train rides. And yet the past few days have been the most trying days of our travels since we left Mumbai. Suddenly the constant activity of India seems more than I can handle. I know this feeling will pass in time, but suddenly I long for a place to call home and familiar surroundings. The jarring car and motorcycle horns, the men urinating around every corner, the permanent smell of urine lingering on the breeze, the mounds of trash being burned on many a corner. My energy is lacking and my temper is short as every shop owner beckons me to buy something, every rickshaw driver pleads with me to catch a ride somewhere, as every child pulls at my arm begging for rupees. I wonder what I am doing here. I hate being the westerner that carries all the money and that always stands out in any crowd. I hate that I am carrying more on my back than many people that I pass on the street own. My simplified life is still luxurious compared to so many that we encounter. India is such an enigma with all the intelligent people she produces, and yet the squalid conditions that the forgotten part of the population lives in.
We heard a story of a woman who spent some time living in Delhi. When it was time for her to head home, she wasn't ready to go. She expressed that she has never felt so alive as here in India. At the end of every day to have survived is an accomplishment. In the next couple of decades India will surpass China as the world's most populous country. Her cities are bursting at the seams. Our western lifestyle has wet the appetite of the growing middle class...in a country that seems to not have the infrastructure to deal with our lifestyle. My black boogers and congested chest after exploring the cities is the tell tale sign of the air quality. The traffic choked streets rumble with buses and rickshaws coughing out clouds of black exhaust. Piles of trash full of plastic bottles and bags are munched on by cows and goats or burned on the curbside. Our western ways of disposable packaging have nowhere to go here. The thick black sluggish rivers collecting pollution as they roll through the cities, giving off their own acrid fumes, give little hope as the population continues to explode. And yet, we (in the 'developed world') conveniently don't see where our trash goes...and don't worry about the water that comes out of our tap. There are so many obstacles that such a large portion of society is faced with here in India. Life is not easy, and I tire of being the person that can travel through this and leave it all behind me. Although I appreciate all that I have been given in my lifetime, I tire of being a 'have' in a world full of 'have-nots'. I am constantly challenged with figuring out my place in this world.
I suppose that is where this blog is so important to me and our travels. I am hoping (and trying my hardest) to shed light on the cultures and places that we are experiencing. I recently was e.mailing a friend back home explaining my intention with the blog. If Tim and I were simply traveling on our own and not sharing our story, I feel it would be a selfish journey. My hope is that sharing our stories and experiences gives everyone a snapshot of life here. That the places that we are visiting become 'real' to you also....with real people and real challenges. Our travel experiences help us (Tim and I) to realize that the world isn't such a big place...and those places that seemed so foreign to us became very real once we set foot there. This trip has been so exhilarating and trying at the same time, but my hope is that you have also gained an appreciation for the places we have visited.
The challenges inevitably are always overshadowed by the kindness of people here and their generosity. And yet my heart aches for the incredible people here that have the odds stacked against them. India is impossible to capture in words, as it is a place best 'experienced' because it is different for every person. I share this simply because it is yet another part of the journey that we are experiencing.